#she deserves everything she deserves the world i love her so much

[immortalmolloy]

Daniel was shocked and he froze for a moment. He could feel the way the boat rocked gently and hear the soft sound of waves lapping at the ship’s hull outside. The room was lit very dimly by a single lamp in the corner.

It was surprising to hear Mina say that he was a light in her life. Daniel had always seen himself as more of a black hole. Hearing Mina say how much he meant to her and how special she thought he was, it meant so much to Daniel. It made him want to be everything she needed. And it made him think maybe he didn’t always need to run to Armand when he was desperate to hear kind words and praises. Mina would assure him. He wanted to do the same for her.

He was usually good with words but this was a complicated subject that hurt him too. Daniel felt shame for things he had done too. He had been so sure back then that he knew who the monsters were. Now he doubted that. Violent memories haunted him in his sleep more often than he’d like to admit.

He was so grateful for Mina. He didn’t know how she was exactly before they had met, only knew what she had said and what he saw in her mind. He understood choices she had made. He couldn’t understand completely but he didn’t blame her for things she had done. She made hard choices. She was strong and brave. She survived and endured.

Daniel had changed a lot too since he met her. He owed her everything. She saved him again and again. He could never repay her for how she rescued him from the grave he was determined to crawl in. She had given him purpose and shown him true love that he had been searching for. She helped him to grow into the person he was meant to be.

“I can’t pretend to know it all,” Daniel said finally. “I do understand how it is to feel like the worst kind of monster, to have your past choices weighing on you suffocating you slowly, to be haunted by painful memories in your sleep. I see their faces. The monsters. The ones we hunted. Some of them deserved it-at least, I think they did. But others... I used to believe I was the hero in the story. I thought I knew who the monsters were. And now, I don't know anything. I’m always going to Lestat for reassurance. Lestat tells me all of the terrible things he’s done and that’s the only way I stop hating myself.”

Daniel sighed. “We can’t forget these things we’ve done. You don’t have to carry it alone, though. We have each other always and forever. I may not have known you so long ago but I do know you now. I know your heart and mind and soul. We were meant to find each other. You are my soulmate for all eternity. You're one of the bravest, strongest people l've ever known. You made hard choices because you thought it was the right thing to do and maybe you didn't always get it right. Maybe neither of us did. But you still deserve the world, Mina. You are amazing and you deserve love and to heal from this stuff. I’m here for you. I’ll help you.”

He kissed her forehead and held her close. "I don't know where I'd be without you. I don't even know who I'd be. You gave me purpose, Mina. A reason to fight, even when I wanted to give up. You’ve shown me love. I could never thank you enough for how you rescued me and saved me. If I’m a light in your life then you’re the whole damn sun in mine.”

“So, you want to interview vampires, so you?”

[echo-riot]

Ambessa with a reader who always refuses to take money from Ambessa or hates (but also appreciates) when she buys/gives her gifts?

Thank you. 🤍

✞⛧ Ambessa Medarda with partner Who Refuses Gifts or Money ✞⛧

• Ambessa quickly notices your resistance to accepting gifts or financial support, but at first, she brushes it off as modesty. It doesn’t take long for her to realize how deeply you dislike the idea.

• She finds your independence admirable—refreshing, even. Ambessa is surrounded by people who would happily accept her wealth without a second thought, so your stance on the matter intrigues her.

• “I don’t need your money,” you’d say firmly, arms crossed. Ambessa would chuckle, leaning back in her chair. “And I don’t need your permission to take care of you.”

• Despite your protests, she enjoys surprising you with thoughtful gestures. She trades lavish gifts for subtle ones—flowers picked from the garden, your favorite treat delivered unexpectedly, or handwritten notes slipped into your belongings.

• Ambessa starts tailoring her generosity to align with your values. Instead of extravagant jewelry or luxury items, she offers practical help—fixing something that’s broken or providing resources that support your goals.

• The arguments over her spending on you are a mix of frustration and affection. “Ambessa, I told you to stop!” you’d exclaim. “And I told you I won’t,” she’d respond, her tone calm but unyielding.

• You secretly appreciate the care and effort she puts into her gestures, even if they make you uncomfortable. It’s hard to stay mad when her gifts always seem to come with so much thought behind them.

• Ambessa loves watching you reluctantly accept something she’s given you, especially when she can see how much you genuinely love it. The way your lips twitch into a small, begrudging smile is a victory she cherishes.

• When she takes you to high-profile events, Ambessa always ensures you’re comfortable. She might insist on dressing you in something extravagant, but she’s quick to remind you, “You deserve to shine just as brightly as anyone else here.”

• To compromise, you occasionally let her spoil you in ways that feel more personal, like cooking you a meal or spending a quiet evening together. She never complains, as long as she can show her love in some way.

• Ambessa admires your determination to stand on your own. It’s one of the many reasons she fell for you. Still, she wishes you’d let her shoulder some of your burdens now and then.

• She’s incredibly patient when it comes to easing your discomfort about gifts. “One day,” she’ll tease, “you’ll realize there’s no shame in being cared for.”

• Ambessa takes note of your interests and passions, finding ways to support them without crossing your boundaries. If you’re an artist, she might quietly arrange for high-quality supplies to find their way into your life. If you’re studying something, she’ll ensure you have access to the best resources.

• On special occasions, like your birthday or an anniversary, she pulls out all the stops despite your protests. “Just let me have this one,” she’ll say with a sly grin, knowing full well you can’t argue when she’s already set everything in motion.

• The way you try to downplay her wealth or influence amuses her endlessly. She loves that you see her as just Ambessa, not the legendary warrior or the untouchable powerhouse everyone else sees.

• If anyone dares to question or criticize your refusal to take advantage of her wealth, Ambessa is quick to shut them down. “It’s none of your business,” she’d say coldly, her protective nature flaring.

• You’ve learned to accept that Ambessa shows her love through actions, even if it’s not always in the way you’d prefer.

• Sometimes, when you’re in a particularly vulnerable moment, you let her spoil you without resistance. Whether it’s allowing her to hold you close or accepting a small token of her affection, those moments mean the world to her.

• Ambessa never takes your independence as a rejection of her love. If anything, it makes her respect you even more. She knows that when you do accept her care, it’s because you truly trust her.

• At the end of the day, Ambessa’s greatest gift to you is her unwavering support and love. Whether it’s through grand gestures or quiet moments, she’s always there, reminding you that she cherishes you for exactly who you are.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

A Drabble based on this idea

Ambessa Medarda had built her life around power. A woman of her stature and reputation was accustomed to the finer things—luxury, control, and influence—and she wielded them with ease. Giving came naturally to her. She could shift mountains if she wanted, and handing her beloved a small token of affection felt like the least she could do.

But you? You made it insufferably difficult.

She sat in her sunlit study, a newly commissioned necklace dangling from her fingers, the diamonds catching the light. It was elegant yet understated, perfect for you. Or at least, she thought so.

The memory of your last argument still lingered in her mind.

“Ambessa, I told you,” you had said, arms crossed and a stubborn pout on your face. “You don’t have to keep buying me things. I don’t want your money.”

“And I told you,” she had countered with a calmness that only years of diplomacy could maintain, “it’s not about needing to. I want to. You deserve to be spoiled.”

“I don’t need to be spoiled!” Your voice had raised, though your frustration wasn’t with her, not really. “I don’t want people thinking I’m with you for—”

She’d cut you off with a sharp look, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Don’t finish that sentence.”

Now, sitting in her study, Ambessa couldn’t help but chuckle. You were perhaps the first person in years who had refused to let her generosity flow unchallenged. It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate her gifts—she could tell by the soft smiles you tried to hide when she surprised you with something thoughtful—but there was a fire in you that refused to let her money define your relationship.

It was admirable, frustrating, and entirely too endearing for her own good.

That evening, Ambessa found you in the garden. The sun was setting, painting the horizon in hues of amber and crimson. You were kneeling by the flowerbeds, tending to the blooms you’d insisted on planting yourself, despite her offers to hire a gardener. Dirt streaked your hands, and a content smile curved your lips.

“Working hard, I see,” Ambessa said as she approached, her voice carrying the same smooth confidence that had drawn you to her in the first place.

You glanced up, your expression softening when you saw her. “Someone has to.”

She smirked, kneeling beside you. “Careful, or I might take that as an insult to my work ethic.”

Your laugh was light, and it sent a flicker of warmth through her chest. “You? Not working hard? I’d believe the sun rising in the west before that.”

Ambessa reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. Her touch lingered, and she took a moment to admire the way the golden light kissed your skin.

“You’re beautiful,” she murmured.

You blushed, your hands pausing in the soil. “You’re not bribing me into accepting another gift with compliments, if that’s what you’re trying.”

She laughed, a deep, rich sound that you couldn’t help but love. “Is it so hard for you to let me spoil you?”

“Ambessa,” you said softly, shifting to face her. “I love you, but… I don’t want our relationship to feel transactional. I want to earn the things I have. I want to contribute.”

Her expression softened, her fingers tracing idle patterns on the back of your hand. “Do you think so little of me? That I would ever see you as someone who takes without giving back?”

“No, of course not.” You sighed, frustrated with yourself. “But people talk, Ambessa. They’ll see us and assume—”

“Let them assume,” she interrupted, her tone firm. “Their opinions are worth less than the soil beneath your nails.”

Her gaze was steady, unwavering, and you felt your resolve weaken under the weight of it. Ambessa always had a way of cutting through your insecurities, laying them bare so she could banish them with her unwavering confidence in you.

“I just don’t want to lose myself,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to forget who I am.”

Ambessa cupped your face, her thumb brushing over your cheek. “And I would never let that happen. You are the most remarkable person I’ve ever known, not because of what you have, but because of who you are.”

Your eyes stung, and you blinked rapidly. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

She smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “Years of practice.”

Later, as the two of you sat by the fire, she brought out the necklace she’d been holding earlier.

“Ambessa…”

“Before you say anything,” she began, holding it up so the firelight danced along the diamonds, “this isn’t just a gift. It’s a symbol. Of us.”

You frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”

She gestured for you to turn around, and you reluctantly obliged. Her hands were steady as she fastened the necklace around your neck, the cool metal resting against your skin.

“This,” she said, her voice low and intimate, “is to remind you that you are cherished. Not for what you do or what you give, but simply because you’re you. And if anyone dares to question that, they’ll have me to answer to.”

You touched the pendant lightly, your heart swelling despite your initial resistance. “Ambessa, I don’t know what to say…”

“You don’t have to say anything,” she replied, turning you back around to face her. “Just promise me you’ll wear it when you need a reminder of how much you’re loved.”

You nodded, unable to fight the smile that tugged at your lips. “Fine. But no more gifts for at least a month, okay?”

Ambessa chuckled, pulling you into her arms. “I’ll do my best. No promises.”

The next morning, you found a handwritten note on your bedside table, accompanied by a single red rose.

My dearest,

You are the one thing in my life that no amount of wealth or power could ever replace. I may not always express it in ways you approve of, but my love for you is unshakable. Thank you for being my balance, my light, and my heart.

Yours, always,

Ambessa

You sighed, a mix of exasperation and affection filling you. She would always push your boundaries, but you couldn’t deny the love and care behind her every action.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

[mmso-notlikethat]

ten years (so sad) …. now what’s that you said about him dying and no one knows for 20-30 years…. 👀

(please please please i need more angst 🙏)

honestly i have no excuse except i wanted to write Tommy's pov and you wanted a longer coma-ish sorry no death (i couldn't)... but this is still way too sad even for me :)...

No MCD, but there is an OC death. / Heavy Angst :)

The first time Tommy realized he wasn’t dead—really knew he was still alive—was after what must have been weeks. Maybe a month. A nurse brushed his arm during a bed change, and he felt it. Faint, like a whisper on his skin, but enough to flood him with hope. He tried to speak, tried to move, but his body betrayed him. His voice was a phantom, his muscles silent.

The nurse left, oblivious.

He wanted to scream. He tried to scream.

Nothing.

After some time—Tommy couldn’t know exactly how much, a couple of months, maybe less or more—Buck showed up. Tommy thought, How…? But the question faded as quickly as it came. Instead, a warmth spread through him, a quiet, desperate relief.

Buck showed up almost every day. Tommy figured Buck must come whenever he wasn’t on shift. He could hear Buck’s voice, steady and warm, as he talked about everything and anything to fill the silence. He talked about Maddie having another baby, about Eddie moving back to El Paso for a while, and then coming back with Christopher.

Sometimes Buck would cry, his voice breaking as he whispered, “Please, Tommy, just wake up. Please.”

Those moments tore Tommy apart. He wanted nothing more than to reach out, to wipe away Buck’s tears, to tell him he was still here. But his body refused to cooperate. All he could do was listen, helpless, as Buck poured his heart out beside him.

A year passed.

Tommy didn’t know how he kept track of time, but he felt it move around him.

The nurses would mention dates in passing, news reports played faintly on TV screens in the hallway, and Buck still came. Once or twice a week, like clockwork, Buck sat by his side, talking about the firehouse, Maddie, Jee-Yun, her sister, and the world outside. Tommy tried to listen, to hang on to those words. They were all he had.

But he also noticed the changes. Buck didn’t stay as long as he used to. Sometimes his visits were rushed, his words distracted. Tommy wanted to shout, Don’t go yet. I’m here! I’m still here!

But he couldn’t.

Five years passed.

The visits became less frequent. Buck came once a month now, bringing flowers that always wilted before the next visit. Tommy learned to brace himself for the quiet. He spent his days locked inside his own mind, desperate for some way to communicate, to show anyone that he wasn’t gone. The staff—the nurses, physical therapists, doctors—anyone… But especially Buck.

Whenever Buck came, he brought a presence to the room that Tommy clung to. He talked about everything: the 118’s updates, Maddie’s growing family, Eddie and Chris, and especially Alex, the little boy he had adopted last year. Buck’s voice lit up when he spoke about Alex—how he was starting to babble, how he smiled the brightest at bedtime stories, how he loved to play with his stuffed animals.

Tommy loved hearing about him. He loved Alex, even though he’d never met him. He clung to those stories like lifelines.

One day, Buck sat down heavily in the chair beside him, his voice quieter than usual. “I met someone,” he said, his words hesitant. “Her name is Amelia. She’s… she’s great Tommy. You’d like her.”

Tommy’s heart shattered, but he couldn’t blame Buck. What else was he supposed to do? They weren’t together when this happened. They hadn’t been for months. He shouldn’t have even hoped. Buck deserved happiness, even if it wasn’t with him. And Tommy had no right to feel like this—no right to feel the ache that settled deep in his chest.

Still, the words haunted him long after Buck left.

Ten years passed.

Buck came every three months now, sometimes less. Tommy had given up trying to track the days. He spent most of his time floating in and out of awareness, only rousing when someone touched him or adjusted his position. The staff rarely spoke to him except to comment on his care. He was just another body to them.

The next time Buck visited, his smile was softer, his voice lighter. “I married her,” he said, raising his hand instinctively to show the ring, even though Tommy couldn’t see it. But somehow, Tommy felt it. “Amelia. She’s amazing, Tommy. She’s good for me.”

Tommy’s chest ached, but also, he was happy for Buck. Genuinely happy. Buck deserved this, deserved someone who could be there for him—though he couldn’t move a muscle to show it. He wondered what Amelia was like, what it would feel like to meet her. But all he could do was listen as Buck described a life he would never be part of.

Buck stayed longer this time, the warmth in his voice pulling Tommy out of the haze he lived in most days. “Oh, and uh… I’m a captain now,” Buck said, almost shyly, as though he didn’t want to brag. “Took me long enough, huh? Bobby always said I’d get there. I wish you could’ve been there, Tommy. You would’ve laughed at the whole thing. I was so nervous.” He chuckled softly, the sound tugging at something deep inside Tommy.

Tommy wanted to tell him, Good job, Evan. You deserve that. I’m so proud of you. The words sat heavy in his chest, unsaid and unheard.

A few visits later, Buck shared something that lit up the room. “Amelia’s pregnant,” he said, his happiness spilling into the space like sunlight. “We’re having a baby, Tommy. Can you believe it? Me—a dad again.” He laughed lightly, and Tommy could almost picture the sparkle in his eyes. “I hope the kid turns out as awesome as Alex.”

Tommy was happy for Buck. He truly was. He just wanted to be part of it somehow, maybe in some small way he already was. But he wanted Buck to know—really know—how happy Tommy was for him. How much he wished he could say it, could share in this joy with him.

Fifteen years passed.

Buck’s visits came twice a year now. He still talked, but not as much. There were longer silences as he sat by the bed, looking at Tommy with guilt in his eyes. “Amelia and I… we had a little girl,” he said during one visit. “Her name’s Emma. She’s five now.”

Emma. Tommy committed the name to memory, repeating it over and over in his mind like a prayer. He imagined her laugh, her tiny hands. Did she have Evan’s eyes? His curls? Or maybe she had a birthmark just like him… His thoughts lingered. Maybe she looked like her mother.

He wanted to say, Tell me more. Don’t stop talking about her. But Buck’s voice trailed off, and the silence stretched between them.

Years continued to pass, and when Buck visited again, his voice carried the weight of something Tommy couldn’t place. Alex was 14 now, and Emma was 8. Buck sat heavily in the chair beside him, his words slow and uneven. “She left, Tommy,” he said quietly, his hands wringing together. “Another person left me. I know this time it isn’t anyone’s fault… but this hurts.”

Tommy’s heart twisted, confusion and worry gnawing at him. Who left? Buck didn’t say, and the silence that followed felt different—deeper, darker. He tried to reach out, to say anything, but his body stayed still, his voice trapped.

Frustration bubbled up in Tommy’s chest, followed by a wave of hot, searing anger. Why? Why can’t I move? Why can’t I tell him I’m here? He raged silently, cursing his own body, the years of silence, the cruel trap he was locked in. He wanted to scream, to reach out and shake Buck, to demand answers, to comfort him, to do something. But there was nothing he could do. Nothing.

The anger simmered as Buck sat there, quiet and heavy with grief. Who left, Evan? he thought frantically. What happened? I’m so sorry, Evan. Please, talk to me. Over and over, Tommy repeated the words in his mind, desperately wishing Buck could hear them. He didn’t understand what had happened, but he wanted to comfort Buck, to take away even a fraction of the pain he could feel radiating off him.

But Buck didn’t say anything more. He sat quietly for a while, then stood and placed a hand gently on Tommy’s shoulder. “I’ll see you soon,” he said softly before walking out of the room.

Tommy was left with his thoughts, his heart breaking for Buck. Whatever had happened, Tommy wanted Buck to know he wasn’t alone—even if he couldn’t tell him.

And then, as always, the helplessness crept back in, wrapping around him like chains. He was powerless, and that hurt almost as much as whatever Buck was going through.

Twenty-two years passed.

When Tommy finally woke up, it wasn’t dramatic—no gasp of air or miraculous surge of energy. His eyes simply opened, his body heavy and alien, and his first breath was shallow and labored. The nurse beside him gasped, calling for a doctor as Tommy’s gaze slowly wandered around the room. It was brighter than he imagined, and the world felt distant, blurry.

It took days for Tommy to understand just how much time had passed. He couldn’t walk. His muscles were too weak, his body unrecognizable. His reflection in the mirror was a stranger—lines etched deep into his face, his hair thin and gray.

The days that followed were a blur of tests and therapies. His muscles were too weak to move much, and his voice cracked like old paper when he tried to speak.

The doctor explained everything—how long he’d been in the care facility, the complications, and how much time had passed.

It wasn’t until the door opened, and Buck stepped inside, that it truly sank in.

Buck was older now, his face lined and his shoulders broader. His hair had streaks of silver, and his movements were slower but steady. He carried himself with a confidence that hadn’t been there before, though his eyes carried something else—something heavier. He looked just as Tommy knew he would—familiar in a way that was both comforting and heartbreaking.

Tommy couldn’t speak much yet, his throat raw from disuse. But he mustered all the strength he had, letting a faint smile curl across his lips. “Hey,” he rasped, the words barely audible.

Buck froze, his eyes wide, his breath catching in his chest. He blinked rapidly, his hands trembling as they curled into fists at his sides. “H-hey,” he whispered back, his voice thick with emotion. He was holding back tears, but Tommy could see how close he was to breaking.

For a moment, they just looked at each other, two men who had been separated by time and silence. Buck pulled a chair closer and sat down, reaching out to rest a hand lightly on the edge of Tommy’s bed. The room was quiet, save for the faint hum and beeps of the machines tommy still needed.

After a long pause, Tommy rasped out, “She… left?”

Buck frowned slightly, confused. “What?” he asked, his voice unsure, like he didn’t quite remember. For him, he said that line years ago—he couldn’t know that for Tommy, it was as vivid as yesterday.

Tommy hummed softly, gathering strength. “You said… she left. Who?”

The realization hit Buck slowly, he sat back slightly, as though reaching into a distant memory. “Oh…” His shoulders sank, and his eyes grew impossibly sad. “Amelia—uh… my wife,” he said quietly, almost stumbling over the words, his voice hollow. “She died… a car accident.”

Tommy’s eyes softened, filled with sorrow. His throat ached as he struggled to speak, his voice hardly above a whisper. “Sorry,” he said hoarsely. “Must’ve been… hard.”

Buck’s head shot up at that, his brows furrowing. He stared at Tommy, almost disbelieving, his lips parting in surprise. It was hard. It had been one of the hardest things he’d ever gone through. Losing Amelia had left him a widower, his kids without their mother. It had left a hole he still carried, even now. But for a moment, he couldn’t process that Tommy—frail and still recovering from decades of silence—was the one trying to comfort him.

A faint, disbelieving laugh escaped him, almost reflexive. He shook his head, his voice soft and tinged with disbelief. “Are you really saying that?” he whispered, a sad smile tugging at his lips.

And then he froze, his breath catching as his eyes widened. His voice faltered when he spoke again. “Wait… y-you… you heard?”

Tommy nodded faintly, a small, almost fragile smile on his lips. “Everything,” he rasped, the word carrying the weight of decades.

And it hit Buck—all at once. Everything. Tommy had heard it all. The stories about Alex and Emma, the confessions, the heartbreak, the joy, the grief. Twenty-two years of words poured into a void Buck had thought was empty, but Tommy had been there the whole time, trapped and silent. Listening. Always listening.

The realization broke something in Buck. His face crumpled as he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, one hand covering his mouth as the first sob escaped him. His shoulders shook as he cried, the weight of twenty-two years crashing down on him in a way he hadn’t expected.

Tommy wanted to reach out, to tell him it was okay, but his body still wouldn’t cooperate. All he could do was whisper again, “Evan, it’s okay. I’m here now.”

But for Buck, the guilt and pain of all those years spent talking to someone he thought couldn’t hear him—and the thought of what Tommy must have felt, locked inside his own body—was too much. He thought how he had left Tommy alone longer and longer over the years, how his visits had decreased while Tommy was still there, still listening, still waiting.

He stayed there for a moment, head in his hands, as Tommy lay quietly, his faint smile never wavering.

Then Buck quickly wiped his face, taking a deep, steadying breath. He began to talk to Tommy about things—about Alex, about Emma, about life in general. He spoke softly, a little hesitantly, like he wasn’t quite sure where to start or how much Tommy could take. But he kept going, filling the space with the sound of his voice, just like he always had.

As Buck stood to leave, he turned back toward Tommy and leaned down slightly. “I’ll help you,” he said firmly. “No matter what, I’ll be here whenever I can. I promise.” He paused, his voice softening. “I’ll bring Alex and Emma to visit. They know you, Tommy. They love you.”

That lit something small in Tommy’s face—a faint glimmer in his eyes, the tiniest upward curve of his lips. He nodded weakly, his voice hoarse as he whispered, “Thanks.”

But later, when the room was empty again, and he was alone again… Tommy stared at the ceiling, his chest aching, tears slipping silently down his cheeks. He thought about the years he’d spent hiding behind lies, about the fleeting years when he’d finally embraced who he was, and about the decades he’d spent trapped in silence, invisible to the world.

He’d lost so much time. Too much time.

And now he didn’t know if he’d ever get any of it back.

Thirty-three years pretending. Seven years living. Twenty-two years lost.

What was left for him now?

[pdriesta]

a love like this — 8

an — a series of blurbs based on the main couple of "something real". this is based on this request! i am sorry it took so long, i hope it was worth the wait!

masterlist

the bedroom was calm and quiet, the kind of peace that only settled late at night when the world outside felt far away. y/n sat cross-legged on the bed, her ipad propped on her knees, her glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose. her focus was razor-sharp, her finger swiping across the screen as she scrolled through lists, pictures, and notes. she was the picture of a type-a planner, meticulous in her approach to everything, even birthdays.

beside her, jude was reclined against the headboard, his arm lazily draped over her waist. her leg was slung over his, and his fingers traced absent patterns along her thigh, his touch soft and soothing. his phone lay forgotten in his lap as his gaze remained fixed on her. she looked so cute like this, glasses perched crookedly, lips pursed in concentration, completely in her element. the corners of his mouth quirked up in a smile every time she frowned slightly or adjusted her glasses with an impatient push.

"all right," she said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence. her tone was all business as she glanced at him over the top of her glasses. "we’ve narrowed dinner down to two options. do you want something fancy and formal, or cozy and intimate?"

he leaned forward slightly, his head hovering near hers as he peered at the screen, his face close enough that he could smell the faint vanilla of her lotion. "cozy," he said without hesitation, his voice warm. "mum’s not really into all that posh stuff."

y/n nodded, her lips curving into a satisfied smile as she made a quick note on the ipad. "good choice. there’s this little italian place i found. family-run, super cozy vibe, and they do a special birthday dessert. i think she’d love it."

“sounds perfect,” jude said, his hand sliding up and down her thigh now, squeezing gently as he watched her. “you’re really good at this, you know?”

“someone has to be,” she teased, shooting him a knowing look, her brows raising slightly. “if i left it to you and jobe, we'd be stuck with you boys playing fifa all night.”

he laughed, the sound rich and unrestrained, his head tilting back slightly. “true. but you know she’d still be happy with that.”

“sure,” y/n said, her tone softening as she glanced at him. “but she deserves more. she deserves to feel celebrated.”

“we both do,” jude agreed, his voice quieter now, laced with a genuine gratitude that made her pause. “thanks for helping me with this, baby.”

she leaned into his side briefly, her cheek brushing against his shoulder, and his heart swelled at the simple gesture. “don’t thank me yet. we still have decorations to figure out. oh, and we need a distraction plan. i don’t trust jobe to handle this without supervision.”

jude groaned dramatically, flopping back onto the bed like a petulant child. “he’s going to be a nightmare, isn’t he?”

“you’re both nightmares,” she said with a smirk, swiping at her screen again.

his hand stilled on her thigh for a moment as he stared up at her, his chest tightening at how into this she was. her energy, her enthusiasm—it all meant so much to him. it was more than just planning his mum’s birthday; it was about how she always cared, how she always gave her all.

“what?” she asked, blinking down at him when she noticed his silence.

“nothing,” jude said, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “just... you.”

she tilted her head, her brows knitting in confusion. “what about me?”

he reached up, his thumb brushing along her cheekbone before he kissed her cheek, lingering just long enough for her to giggle. “just love you, that’s all,” he murmured.

she rolled her eyes, but her blush betrayed her. “focus, jude. we still have work to do.”

“nah,” he said lazily, pulling her ipad out of her hands and setting it on the nightstand. “you’ve done enough planning for tonight. come here.”

“jude—” she started, but his hands were already guiding her to lie against his chest, her leg still draped over his as his fingers resumed their slow, deliberate strokes along her thigh.

“you’re amazing, you know that?” he said softly, his lips brushing the top of her head.

“you’re just saying that because i’m doing all the work,” she teased, though her voice wavered, her heart fluttering at his words.

“nah, it’s because it’s true,” he replied, his eyes fixed on her as she nuzzled into him, her hand splaying across his chest. “and because i’m obsessed with you.”

she laughed softly, the sound muffled against his shirt. “don’t let that go to your head.”

“too late,” he said with a grin, pressing another kiss to her temple. “but for real, baby. thank you. this is going to mean the world to her.”

y/n tilted her head up to look at him, her expression softening. “you’re welcome, jude.”

he stared down at her, his heart swelling with so much love it almost hurt. “how did i get so lucky?”

“probably because i felt bad for you,” she teased, grinning up at him.

he laughed, the sound vibrating through his chest. “you’re terrible.”

“and you’re stuck with me,” she quipped, her grin widening.

“damn right,” he said, pulling her closer, his lips brushing against hers in a tender kiss. “and don’t you forget it.”

the next morning, sunlight streamed through the kitchen window, painting the cozy space in warm golden hues. y/n sat across from denise at the wooden table, a steaming mug of tea cupped in her hands. the faint scent of chamomile mingled with the comforting aroma of freshly baked bread, leftovers from breakfast still sitting on the counter.

y/n’s phone was tucked discreetly in her lap, her thumb moving quickly across the screen as she sent updates to jude.

y/n: everything’s good here. she hasn’t suspected a thing. we miss you, though.

she glanced up at denise, who was eyeing her with the kind of look that only a mother could give, one that seemed to see right through her.

clearing her throat, y/n set her mug down with a light clink and forced a casual tone. “so,” she began, her voice bright, “i was thinking we could have a little girls’ day. you know, just the two of us. nails, maybe hair, a bit of pampering. what do you think?”

denise arched an eyebrow, her lips curving into a sly smile as she cradled her own mug. “you’re spoiling me, aren’t you?”

y/n mirrored her smile, feigning nonchalance. “of course. it’s your birthday week—you deserve it.” she reached for her tea, taking a sip to steady herself under denise’s knowing gaze.

“and jude’s too busy to hang out, is he?” denise asked, her tone light but laced with suspicion, her eyes narrowing just slightly.

y/n shrugged, her expression carefully neutral. “he said he’s got things to do,” she replied smoothly, though her phone vibrated softly in her lap, likely another message from jude. “so, what do you say? just us girls?”

denise studied her for a moment, her smile widening as if she were onto something but didn’t feel the need to press. “all right,” she said with a soft laugh, shaking her head. “you’re better company than him anyway.”

y/n laughed, relieved, and stood to grab her bag from the counter. “don’t let him hear you say that. his ego will take a battering.”

“oh, i’ll tell him to his face,” denise quipped, her voice full of playful mischief as she stood as well, straightening her blouse.

y/n grinned, her hand brushing her phone in her pocket as she sent one last message to jude

y/n: we’re heading out. don’t mess anything up while we’re gone.

“ready to go?” y/n asked, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

“ready,” denise said, glancing at her with a smile. “this better not be some elaborate scheme you and my son cooked up.”

y/n feigned innocence, her eyes wide as she held the door open. “me? never. you know i’m much more trustworthy than jude.”

denise chuckled, stepping outside. “we’ll see about that.”

as they walked down the path, y/n couldn’t help but smile to herself. the plan was going smoothly so far, but the hard part was yet to come. she only hoped jude had everything under control.

the nail salon was a picture of calm—soft instrumental music playing in the background, the gentle whir of dryers filling the air, and a faint lavender scent drifting through the space. denise was thoroughly relaxed, reclining in her pedicure chair as a technician worked on her feet. her expression was one of pure bliss, and y/n felt a brief pang of guilt for what was happening behind the scenes.

beside her, y/n was fidgeting, flipping through the color swatches with half the attention they deserved. her mind wasn’t on the vibrant shades of polish or the serene atmosphere. it was on her phone, which she’d tucked into the pocket of her hoodie to avoid distraction. unfortunately, that plan was failing miserably.

her phone buzzed once. then again. then, a third time in rapid succession.

denise opened one eye, glancing at y/n’s jittery movements. “someone’s popular,” she teased, her tone light.

y/n forced a nervous laugh, waving it off. “probably just spam,” she said, clearly lying through her teeth. the buzzing continued.

denise smirked, sitting up slightly. “spam texts don’t usually come in triplets. what’s going on?”

“nothing!” y/n blurted, far too quickly to be convincing. she hesitated for a beat, then turned to denise with a sheepish smile. “actually, uh… could you grab my phone? it’s kind of stuck in my pocket, and my nails are wet.”

denise gave her an amused look, but she reached for the phone, pulling it free and holding it out. “here you go, miss ‘nothing’s going on.’”

“thanks!” y/n said brightly, taking it with a little too much enthusiasm. she unlocked it and glanced at the screen—and froze.

the group chat with jude and jobe was in full-blown chaos.

jude: WHERE’S THE DUCT TAPE? jobe: WE DON’T HAVE ANY. WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME WE NEEDED IT? jude: I DID TELL YOU. YOU NEVER LISTEN. jobe: THIS IS YOUR FAULT. jude: WE NEED TO STOP ARGUING.

y/n’s eyes widened as it hit her like a brick to the face—she had completely forgotten about the surprise they were planning for denise. her stomach dropped, and she let out a strangled noise that made denise sit up straighter.

“what’s wrong?” denise asked, her concern giving way to curiosity as she watched y/n’s panicked expression.

“uh, nothing!” y/n said, her voice climbing several octaves. she tilted the phone away from denise’s view, typing furiously.

y/n: STOP TEXTING ME. SHE’S RIGHT HERE. I FORGOT. FIX IT.

another buzz came through before she could lock the screen.

jobe: we’re out of balloons. jude: WHY ARE WE OUT OF BALLOONS? jobe: ask yourself that, mr. “i need to test how much they can stretch before they pop.” jude: don’t bring science into this.

y/n groaned audibly, smacking her forehead with her free hand.

“y/n,” denise said, leaning over with an amused smile, “you’re acting like you just got caught cheating on a test. what’s going on?”

“NOTHING!” y/n squeaked, quickly locking her phone. she was failing spectacularly at hiding her guilt, and denise was enjoying every second of it.

“let me see,” denise said, reaching for the phone.

y/n dove—literally dove—out of her chair, clutching the phone to her chest like it held state secrets. “nope! nope! everything’s fine! don’t worry about it!”

the salon technician paused mid-swipe, blinking in confusion as y/n scrambled back into her seat, trying to act normal while clearly anything but.

denise raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching as she fought back laughter. “you’re hiding something,” she said, crossing her arms.

“me? hiding? never!” y/n stammered, avoiding eye contact. her phone buzzed again, and she visibly winced.

denise smirked. “it’s jude and jobe, isn’t it?”

y/n froze, her eyes darting to denise like a deer caught in headlights. “…no?”

denise burst out laughing, her suspicion confirmed. “oh, they’re up to something, aren’t they? and you’re in on it.”

“nope!” y/n said, shaking her head so quickly it was a wonder she didn’t get whiplash. “not me! i don’t know anything!”

denise leaned back in her chair, still laughing. “whatever it is, it’s going to be a disaster, isn’t it?”

y/n groaned, covering her face with her hands. “probably,” she muttered, which only made denise laugh harder.

despite the chaos, y/n couldn’t help but smile a little. as disastrous as the boys might be, she had to admit—it was shaping up to be a memorable surprise.

meanwhile, jude and jobe were knee-deep in party supplies. balloons were scattered across the floor, some half-inflated, others popped. the banner they’d bought was somehow tangled beyond recognition, and the cake sat untouched in its box.

“this is a disaster,” jobe muttered, holding up a deflated balloon.

“just focus,” jude said, trying to untangle the banner with one hand while texting y/n updates with the other.

when y/n’s message came through, telling them to stop fighting and focus, jude let out a breath of relief. “see? she believes in us.”

“she’s the only one,” jobe said dryly, but he grabbed the tape and got to work on the streamers.

when y/n and denise walked through the door later that evening, denise froze in her tracks, her eyes widening. the living room was a breathtaking vision of golden balloons floating in clusters, warm fairy lights strung across the walls, and a table beautifully arranged with a spread of food, desserts, and neatly wrapped gifts.

but what truly stole the scene were the three men standing at the center of it all—mark, jude, and jobe—all grinning from ear to ear.

“surprise!” they shouted in unison, their voices overlapping in a cacophony of excitement.

denise’s hands flew to her mouth as tears welled up in her eyes. “you lot… oh, my boys…” her voice cracked as she clutched her chest, clearly overwhelmed.

mark stepped forward first, pulling her into a warm embrace. “happy birthday, love. you deserve this and so much more.”

“oh, mark…” denise whispered, her voice trembling as she leaned into him. “thank you.”

jude was next, stepping in with a boyish grin as he wrapped her in a tight hug. “happy birthday, mum. hope we did you proud.”

denise held onto him for a moment longer, cupping his face as she pulled back. “you always do.”

jobe was already hovering nearby, shuffling awkwardly but with a proud smile. when denise turned to him, he opened his arms sheepishly. “i helped too, you know.”

“of course you did, my baby,” denise cooed, pulling him into a hug that made jobe groan but didn’t stop him from holding on just as tightly.

when she finally pulled back, her tear-filled eyes landed on y/n, and her expression softened into something almost mischievous. “you had a hand in this, didn’t you?”

y/n laughed nervously, glancing at jude and jobe for backup that didn’t come. “maybe just a little,” she admitted, her cheeks warming.

denise didn’t hesitate to wrap her in a hug, her voice warm and full of affection. “well, you’ve officially earned your spot as my favorite.”

“hey!” jude protested immediately, stepping forward to slide an arm around y/n’s waist. “she’s mine, actually.”

“not today,” denise said with a playful laugh as she wiped her tears and gestured to the table. “now, let’s eat before you three manage to burn something else.”

“oi!” jude shot back, feigning offense. “dad was the one in charge of the oven.”

“and i supervised,” mark added with a grin, clapping jude on the shoulder.

denise shook her head, a fond smile playing on her lips as she took her seat at the table. “you’re all lucky i love you so much.”

jobe plopped into his chair, shooting a pointed look at jude. “she loves me more, though.”

jude crossed his arms, leaning casually against the table. “let’s not get carried away. everyone knows i’m the favorite—firstborn, golden child, all that.”

“golden child?” jobe repeated, raising an eyebrow. “you couldn’t even blow up balloons without popping half of them. i had to fix your mess.”

“fix?” jude shot back. “half the streamers are lopsided because of you!”

denise laughed, shaking her head as she served herself a plate. “you’re both my favorites, and that’s final. now stop bickering and eat before i take the title away altogether.”

y/n giggled, pulling a neatly wrapped box from the pile of gifts. “maybe we should let auntie decide after she opens these. the best gift wins favorite status.”

denise opened her presents one by one, her laughter and joy filling the room. jude’s gift—a personalized bracelet with charms representing their family—earned an emotional gasp, while jobe’s cozy slippers drew an equally delighted response.

“oh, these are perfect!” denise exclaimed, slipping the soft slippers onto her feet immediately.

mark chuckled as he poured drinks for everyone. “see? between the three of us, we’ve got everything covered.”

jobe groaned dramatically, slumping in his chair. “ugh, i’m surrounded by couples. it’s disgusting.”

“don’t be jealous, mate,” jude teased, leaning over to nudge him. “your time will come.”

y/n smirked. “maybe one of the girls here will catch your eye.”

“great,” jobe muttered, shaking his head. “just what i need—relationship advice from you two.”

denise laughed, her hand resting on mark’s arm as she looked around the room. “well, one thing’s for sure: i’m the luckiest woman in the world to have all of you.”

mark leaned over to kiss her temple, while jude and jobe immediately started arguing again over whose gift had been better, their banter filling the air as the family settled in for a night of food, laughter, and love.

hours later, after the laughter and the cake and the countless stories shared, y/n found herself in the kitchen, tidying up some of the remnants of the party. jude appeared in the doorway, his face softer now that the chaos had subsided.

“hey,” he said, walking up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. “we did it.”

y/n turned in his arms, a small smile playing on her lips. “we really did. your mum looked so happy.”

“she was,” jude said, pulling her into a hug, his chin resting on the top of her head. “but let me tell you, next time jobe is on mum duty. you’re with me. i almost had a hundred breakdowns today.”

y/n laughed, her arms tightening around him. “you’re so dramatic.”

“i’m serious,” he said, his tone mock-indignant. “the balloons, the banner, jobe threatening to eat the cake before dinner—it was chaos.”

“well,” y/n said, leaning back to look up at him, “maybe next time jobe can get his hair and nails done. he’d love it.”

jude chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “you’re probably right. but for now, i just want to hold you.”

they stayed like that for a long moment, the noise of the day fading into the background as the comfort of each other took its place.

“i missed you today,” jude murmured, his voice low.

y/n smiled against his chest. “i missed you too. but look at it this way—we survived, and she had an amazing birthday.”

“yeah,” he said softly. “thanks to you.”

“thanks to us,” y/n corrected, lifting her hand for a high-five.

jude grinned, meeting her hand with his. “team bellingham, undefeated.”

she laughed, her head resting against his chest as he held her tighter. the day had been long and chaotic, but in this moment, with jude’s arms around her, it all felt more than worth it.

© PDRIESTA 2025

taglist — @sinners-98-world @stephiii29 @kcharlyy @landosgirlxoxo @judesthighveins @ilovelifes-world @cinderellawithashoe @imnyt @miniemonie2001 @lunamelona

[11queensupreme11]

Hello! I loved yesterday's episode! It was perfect. I love watching Perssasy in action. It was so fun to see the Yans despairing over Percy's actions, it was a very funny moment. AAAAAAH— I'm still looking forward to the Arsenic Blues reaction story. How would the Yans, humans, or everyone in general react to Percy's intrusive thoughts about suicide? Or when dyslexia and its ADHD become present? I feel like the gods and humans won't see it as relevant until Percy gets into a lot of situations because of it. Or about Percy's actions not generally considered feminine.

oooooh i'll answer this one by one

How would the Yans, humans, or everyone in general react to Percy's intrusive thoughts about suicide?

very very very VERY worried. percy is very self-deprecating throughout the books and sometimes slips into more concerning territory where he talks about hiding away in isolation out of shame for failing to save someone/people or claiming he deserves to die for the same reason.

i wouldn't say she has a hero complex cuz that's defined as "psychological tendency to want to be the hero in any situation" and she has expressed many many times how much she wants to have a peaceful and normal life (canon too btw) and just wants to go to college. she's just the unfortunate "chosen one" 💀

(also, those with hero complexes sometimes PURPOSELY create dangerous situations so they could "play hero" and percy would NEVER do that in my fic or in canon)

so yeah, no hero complex, she's just very heroic in nature. SO very heroic that whenever she experiences failure, she literally shuts down. that's absolutely not normal and everyone will pick up on that immediately. they'd most likely pick up that the insurmountable pressure that she's been in since age fucking 12, the fact that almost every damn year the fate of the world is ALWAYS on her shoulders (and there was the one time that it literally was thx atlas 💀), the trauma of being a demigod in general, the brewing war, etc etc. is what's exacerbating her depression and suicidal tendencies

they're first immediate thought, that gods and humans would agree on is: no more hero/demigod life, HOWEVER......

humans (and some gods) would be able to tell that all she wants is a normal life like humans do. she wants to be able to live her life without being hunted down, without gods constantly interfering in her life, without seeing her friends die, without the quests.... she just wants to go to school, hang out with her friends and be a NORMAL GIRL.

the gods however.... 💀💀💀💀💀 in their eyes, they MUST save her by locking her up in a gilded cage. she doesn't want to fight anymore? perfect! she can remain in the palace where all she has to worry about is being a good wife and mother! school? friends? silly girl wants to be with humans haha! and what's this about a normal life? in their eyes, this IS a normal life. they'll MAKE IT a normal life for her.

Or when dyslexia and its ADHD become present?

the humans won't care! disorders are a normal part of humanity. some of the more ancient ones might not know wtf they are, but other than that, they'll have pretty normal reactions.

the gods however........ those are HUMAN defects. but to them, once percy ascends, she'll be rid of all those defects and be a happy lil goddess 🥰

Or about Percy's actions not generally considered feminine

obviously, the more ancient humans will be a bit miffed when they find out that percy and other female demigods are fighting. but they won't make a fuss since they know that for every (greek) demigod it's "survival of the fittest" for them.

the gods (mainly the yans tbh) would be more irritated that percy's forced to fight. she's a princess, why are they making HER do everything 😒

[touchlikethesun]

i think i am percy coded but only in the sense that i would also willingly and repeatedly try to give my life to save annabeth chase

[crismakesstuff]

I am a forest fire

And I am the fire and I am the forest

And I am a witness watching it

I stand in a valley watching it

And you are not there at all

[ef-1]

If I think about the double standard and the disparity with which the media handled Daniel in comparison to everyone else I may lose my mind.

[ghostcreaturetypething]

Artist credits:

@sunfloowerlatte-art

@utenapilled

@raspberry-arev

@sunfloowerlatte-art

@sunfloowerlatte-art

@kiaraalazulu

@raspberry-arev

@kangaruthi

Unknown

@raspberry-arev

@kerosene-art

@sunfloowerlatte-art

It's Emotional About Nona hours again lads

[bayofwolves]

Yeah I am mad about how the authors treated their sweet angel Abeke actually.

Bad things that happened to Abeke:

Mom, only person to understand her, died pre-series

Dad and sister are emotionally abusive

Tricked by her enemies and roped onto the wrong side

Distrusted by the rest of the Four and believed to be a spy

Targeted by Meilin in particular

Kidnapped by obnoxious pre-teen boys

Gets frostbite

Gets concussed

Gets stabbed

Gets captured

Gets beaten up by Meilin

Lied to and betrayed by her dearest friend

Meanwhile dad DISOWNS her

Understandable depressive episode

Makes up with dad because he apparently decided he wanted to keep treating his daughter like shit

Mauled by cougars

Loses Uraza to arch-nemesis Zerif

Another extremely understandable depressive episode

Nicknamed "hollow-girl" which tells you a lot

Almost killed by Uraza on two separate occasions

Friend* killed by Uraza

Denied proper resolution with said friend

Doesn't get to kill arch-nemesis Zerif

Doesn't get to use her Rain Dancer powers a single time

Attacked by ants

Mid bond token

Can't even keep her cat

Justice for Abeke.

[mxltifxnd0m]

no fr i couldn't pretend for a second that i don't like her bc LOOK AT HER! you come back and tell me that you aren't in love with those big brown eyes and just with her in general. no she deserves everything in the world, like i need her so so bad!! no bc im actually squealing at the fact that you like ruby's characterization here bc i love your writing so much hehe <33

(this is also my informal request to see you write for ruby but there's no pressure or rush to post for her but i just know you'd knock it out of the park for her :])

motel chats  ── . ✶ ruby

summary: you find ruby in your motel room and she wants have a "chat"

pairings: bi! ruby 2.0 x bi! reader, ruby x gn afab! reader, mentions of samruby and slight unrequited sam x reader warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, set in szn 4 sometime after ep 4.10, no use of 'y/n', cursing, smut, hate sex, oral (reader receiving), fingering (ruby receiving), implied switch! ruby and reader, name-calling (whore, slut), face sitting, some degradation, a prequel to my 'you did what?' fic but can be read as a standalone, kinda edited; all mistakes are my own word count: 3.5K a/n: first ruby fic/smut!! never thought id be writing a ruby fic but alas im too gay for her not to write one for her bc well look at her LOL also my first time writing wlw (f/f) smut so give me a little bit of grace <3 also there are like no ruby fics out there so i barely had any frame of references outside of mari's fics T-T alas i hope you ruby lovers/freaks enjoy this one ruby masterlist

AT THIS POINT, you don't know if it's too late to change what you're doing with your life. You swiftly swung the iron crowbar at the spirit that was charging at you in its grave that you had just dug up. You were so close to getting rid of this ghost, but of course, it couldn’t be easy for you. 

You had found a simple salt and burn just a couple hours away from Bobby’s. You had asked if the boys wanted to come with you, but they had denied since the brothers were trying to figure out how to stop Lilith from breaking more seals. Which, you had to admit, was out of your league when it came to the world of the supernatural. You tried helping them out as best as you could, but sometimes you felt like you were in their way when it came to helping them put a stop to the end of the world. 

You never thought that your life would be this level of crazy, but since reconnecting with the Winchesters, it’s pretty much turned your life upside down (even more so than you thought possible).

The ghost quickly disappeared when the iron made contact with its translucent form. You tried to use your lighter, but it wouldn’t light for a moment, and you felt the hair on the back of your neck stand as you heard a whoosh come from behind you. You swung your crowbar again, and the ghost evaporated. 

“Just fucking light already.” You grunted out, frustrated as your thumb was flicking against the flint of the lighter. Once, then twice, you tried lighting it before the flame flickered to life. You quickly threw the lighter into the open coffin, igniting the salted and gasoline-soaked corpse. You clambered out of the open grave and saw the remnants of the ghost ‘dying’ for good as the body was set aflame. 

You let out a sigh, your body sagging in relief and tiredness as you lay back onto the cool grass of the cemetery you were in. 

“Next time, I’m forcing one of them to come with me.” You muttered into the silent night. Despite having solo hunted for the majority of the time, you have to say that having another pair of hands (or two, for this matter) was oh so very helpful when it came to having to dig up a dead body and getting rid of the spirit. You let out another sigh before sitting up, a small groan leaving your lips. 

Fuck me. You thought as you got up from the ground and grabbed your shovel, preparing to shovel the dirt back into the hole you just dug up. 

You stalked towards your motel room, the parking lot empty, save for your car and a couple of other ones scattered throughout the lot, but paid no mind to them as exhaustion riddled your brain. You had one goal in mind, and that was to get to your room, shower, and then collapse in bed, hoping you could sleep for at least six hours. 

You threw the duffle that was haphazardly slung on your shoulder on the foot of one of the two queen beds you had in the room. You sifted through it to grab some comfortable clothes and your toiletry bag before you made your way to the bathroom. You stayed underneath the stream of water until it ran cold, scrubbing off all of the dirt and grime that was on your body from the hunt. You quickly went through your nighttime routine, eager to fall into bed and let sleep take you away from the land of the living temporarily. 

But when you exited the bathroom, irritation started to brew in your chest when you saw a familiar brunette laying on the vacant bed. 

Ruby’s head turned when she heard the bathroom door open, and you came out of it. She smirked when she saw how your mood shifted from tired to annoyed when you laid eyes on her. 

“Wow, don’t you look great.” Ruby snarked as she sat up on the bed, and her eyes looked you up and down. 

You couldn’t recognize the look in her eye as her gaze roamed your figure, only in a tank top and some boy shorts style underwear. You wore this getup when you had the rare opportunity to be on a solo hunt or have a room to yourself. 

But you decidedly ignored how she was looking at you and scowled. “What the hell are you doing in my room?” You were tired and didn’t want to deal with her bullshit at the moment. 

“We,” Ignoring your words, she stood up from the bed and gestured between the two of you, “Need to have a little chat.” Ruby’s hips swayed slightly as she began to walk towards you. 

You scoffed. “No, we don’t.” You crossed your arms as you leaned against the doorway of the bathroom, and your eyes never left Ruby’s brown ones as she strode towards you. 

Ruby had a sly smirk on her face. “You really don’t like me do you?” 

“Oh, I’m sorry did I not make that abundantly clear the last time we had a ‘chat’?” You cocked your head to the side. “Because if it wasn’t I can refresh your memory.” Sarcasm and irritation bled through your words as the demon in front of you kept you from sleeping. 

This wasn’t the first time Ruby had cornered you alone. The two of you had a bit of “girl talk” (Ruby’s words, not yours) the night after you and Dean found out what Sam was doing late at night after you had noticed that he would sneak out at night shortly after getting Dean back from Hell. That conversation was filled with thinly-veiled insults, alongside Ruby being able to rile you up until she decided she was done having fun and disappeared when you turned your back on her. 

Ruby had rolled her eyes at your words but was standing in front of you now, only a few feet away. You had a couple of inches on the demon, having to tilt your head down to meet her eyes as Ruby stared up at you, amusement gleaming in her eyes at your foul mood. But the look you couldn’t recognize was back in her gaze. 

A scowl etched your face, trying to mask how Ruby’s proximity had lit something within you, but you stamped it down, letting annoyance coat your features. 

“Look, this won’t take long if you stop being a smartass for a second and you listen to me,” Ruby said as she crossed her arms—the action pushing up her breasts, making her cleavage slightly more prominent in the low-cut shirt she was wearing. 

Your eyes flicked down to Ruby’s chest for a second before meeting her eyes—yours narrowing as you stared her down. 

“What do you want?” You asked through gritted teeth, deciding that if you wanted her gone faster, you would need to be cooperative (even though deep down you didn’t want to).  

The corner of her lips twitched. “I need your help.” 

“Nope.” 

“You haven’t even-” 

You shook your head. “Not in a million years am I going to help you with anything. Go ask Sam. I’m sure he’d be willing to help you since you got him wrapped around your finger.” You spat out his name bitterly, knowing that Sam was under her spell and would be at her beck and call if it wasn’t for you or Dean trying to convince him that Ruby was bad news. 

Ruby dared to smirk at you, obviously loving the way she could rile you up. “If I knew any better, I’d think you’re jealous.” 

A sharp laugh left your lips. “Jealous? And what am I supposed to be jealous about exactly?” 

“I’m not blind,” Ruby cooed your name out, your jaw clenched at the sound of it falling from her lips. “I see the way you look at him when you think no one’s looking.” 

“Right,” you drawled out, “Pray tell Ruby, the all knowing demon, how do I look at my friend Sam?” You snarked at the demon standing in front of you. 

You were going to be honest with yourself; you had no idea how you looked at Sam anymore. The two of you were close growing up. When you reconnected with him and Dean, but after being AWOL for four months and finding him shacking up with Ruby, any inkling of feelings that you had for Sam that may have been more than platonic had been extinguished. But you’d be damned if you were going to admit that to the demon he was sleeping with. 

Ruby chuckled before taking a step closer to you. “Oh please, you’re not very discreet with your small glances or longing looks when his back is turned. I have eyes, you’re just lucky everyone is too wrapped up in themselves to even notice.” 

“Or just wrapped up in someone else.” You couldn’t help but mutter under your breath, hoping it was low enough that Ruby couldn’t hear. 

“So, you are jealous.” Ruby had that sly grin on her face, and all you wanted to do was wipe it off her face. 

You rolled your eyes before scoffing. “The only thing I’m jealous of is everyone else who is sleeping right now.” You kicked off the door frame and walked past Ruby, shoulder-checking her as you made your way to the bed with your bag on it. 

Ruby chuckled. “I’m sure you can stay up for a couple of more minutes. Besides, you aren’t that slick when trying to change the subject.” 

“Have you ever considered not bothering me?” 

“Not when I need your help.” 

You threw your head back with a groan escaping your lips. “For the last time, I’m not helping you with your schemes.” 

“Who said I was scheming?” You took a glance at Ruby, who had her head cocked to the side. 

“You’re a demon, you’re always scheming or lying.” You pointed out as you unzipped your bag, doing anything but looking at Ruby. 

“Do you think that lowly of me?” 

“Yes.” 

Ruby scoffed. “I’m sorry, who was the one who was tortured by Alastair because they knew the location of the rogue angel. Oh, right it was me.” 

Your head snapped to stare at her incredulously.“You helping us once doesn’t warrant my trust for a single second.” 

“And what about all of the times that I tipped off Sam. Come on, you have to admit that I do help you guys in some way.”

Anger filled your chest as you turned from the bed and quickly rushed at Ruby, grabbing her shoulder and pinning her against the wall—quickly placing your forearm against her windpipe, putting slight pressure against it, but not enough to cut off her air supply. 

“I’m only going to say this once so you better listen closely.” You said in a low voice, glaring at the demon in front of you. 

“I’m not going to be a pawn in this fucked up game of yours. You may have your claws deep into Sam and feeding him the delusion that you’re helping us, but I know that you have something up your sleeve. I don’t know your endgame, but you better believe I’ll kill you before you even get to reach it.” Your upper lip was threatening to twitch up in a snarl as you glowered down at Ruby. 

But all she did was smirk, making the anger boil in your blood. “Didn’t expect you to have some bite to you. Maybe you are just more than a pretty face.” 

“Has anyone told you to shut the fuck up?” You glared at her harder as you applied more pressure on her throat. 

Ruby let out a breathy laugh. “Sam does and most of the time, he has a pretty creative way of doing it.” 

You couldn’t help but flick your gaze down to her plush lips before meeting her brown eyes that were filled with mirth.

“Spare me the details.” You tried not to think about what she was suggesting about her and Sam, but you couldn’t help the spark of arousal that zipped down your spine. 

“Are you sure? Because I thought you would love to hear about how he forces me to my knees and makes me choke around his thick cock.” Ruby had a salacious smile pulled on her lips. 

“Shut up.” You growled out as you unconsciously leaned closer to her. 

“Make me.” She purred. “Or are you-” You quickly shut her up by smashing your lips against hers. 

Her lips were soft against yours as the two of you kissed each other fervently and hard. This wasn’t an innocent kiss between two people who liked each other; it was a filthy one meant to show who was in charge and you were winning. You felt her hands fly to your hips, pulling you closer to her body. You moved the arm that was against her neck to grab the nape of her neck as your other hand trailed down to the hem of her shirt.

You nipped at her bottom lip before delving into her mouth, tasting mint and the faintest hint of tequila. Your tongues fought for dominance, but you shoved her harder against the wall with your body, making a small moan escape her lips as you kissed her. Your lips left hers with a string of saliva connecting the two of you before you trailed your lips down her neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. The hand on her neck joined the other at the hem of her shirt—only detaching from her neck to pull the piece of clothing over her head. 

Your hands landed on her bare waist, the temperature of her skin being cooler than you expected it to be, but you paid no mind to it as you started to kiss and nip at her chest, leaving hickies scattered throughout her golden colored skin. Ruby’s hands were pulling at the hem of your tank top. You let her pull it up and off of you, throwing it to the ground before pulling you into another kiss—your bare breasts brushing against her bra-covered chest, making a low moan leave your lips at the feeling of your nipples brushing against the lacey material of it. 

Your hands moved up and around to her back to unclasp her bra. Once the straps fell down her arms and onto the ground in between the two of you, you grabbed her hips, pulled her away from the wall, and pushed her down roughly on the bed. You quickly got on top of her, slotting yourself in between her open legs, and kissed her roughly again as one of your hands quickly flicked open the button on the jeans she was wearing. You knew that Ruby could easily overpower you in this position, but she was letting you manhandle her like she couldn’t use her abnormal demon strength to turn the tables. 

You shoved your hands down her jeans and underwear, and a low whine escaped her lips when your fingers rubbed over her wet slit. 

“Shit, you’re so wet.” You breathed against her lips, having pulled away from her now swollen lips. “Who knew a demon like you got off on arguing, but then again I should have expected it.” 

Ruby’s face scrunched up, and right before she could throw back a witty retort, a groan left her lips instead at the feeling of your fingers rubbing circles on her clit. You went back to sloppily kissing at her neck, leaving trails of saliva as your lips moved down her chest and took one of her nipples in your mouth and sucked at the hardened nub. Your free hand kneaded the unoccupied breast—pinching and tweaking her nipple. 

Expletives and moans left Ruby’s lips as you sucked at her tits and rubbed at her clit. You stopped rubbing at her clit to shove two fingers into her slick cunt, moaning against her chest as you felt little resistance as your fingers entered her. You bit her nipple, tugging on it with your teeth before letting go of it. 

You moved up from her chest, leaving teasing kisses along her skin as you reached her ear. “Look at you moaning like a whore.” You nibbled at her earlobe and chuckled at her, feeling her clench around your digits at the name. 

“Oh, you liked that.” You teased her as you tried to locate the spongy spot inside of Ruby—your fingers speeding up as you did. “You like being talked down to like a slut?” 

A high-pitched whine left Ruby at your words, clenching again around your fingers as her hips reached to meet each thrust of your fingers. But you stopped your ministrations abruptly, leaving your fingers inside of her warm pussy as you pulled away from her ear, along with most of your body from her to use your free hand to grip the long hairs at the nape of her neck. 

“Tell me.” You tug at her hair, another moan escaping her lips as you do, making you smirk at how strung Ruby is for you. 

“Fuck.” She groaned out. “Yeah I do. Now are you gonna keep going or do I have to finish myself off?” Ruby managed to snap at you, her cheeks flushed and chest heaving from the noises she was making.

You couldn’t help but smile evilly at the plan that formed in your head at Ruby’s retort. “No, I’ll finish you off. But I have to get my fill first.” 

You promptly withdrew your fingers from her heated cunt and swiftly took off your soaked underwear. You grabbed both of Ruby’s wrists and climbed up her body, pinning her wrists with one hand as your naked cunt hovered Ruby’s mouth. 

You looked down at her to find her staring hungrily at your slick core. “Make me cum first and I’ll think about finishing you off.” Is what you said to her before lowering yourself down on her face, letting a soft sigh of pleasure leave your lips when you felt her tongue lave over your heated cunt. 

“Shit.” You moaned. “I can see why Sam uses your mouth like this, it’s the only thing that it’s good for when you’re not spewing your bullshit.” You managed to say as pleasure filled your veins and your hips rutted against Ruby’s mouth. 

Her tongue moved up and down your slit, tasting you for all you were worth before sucking your clit into her mouth, suckling on it before adding more suction to it. A louder moan escaped your lips as you ground your cunt harder down on her mouth. 

Ruby wouldn’t ever admit it, but it felt good to be used by you like this. If this meant she’d get one step closer to you helping her, then so be it. But she knew she wasn’t going to be able to hide the arousal that pooled in her underwear at the fact you used her like your personal toy. You weren’t shy about how hard you grinded down on her face. She moved from your clit to thrust her tongue in you—her nose bumping against your swollen clit sent you faster down to tipping over the edge. 

“Fuck, you’re doing so good f’me Ruby, eating me out like a good little whore.” You gripped her wrists a little tighter, using your free hand to grip the top of her hair, and pulled at hair there—Ruby groaning at the sting of pain into you, sending vibrations through you. 

The motel room was filled with your moaning and groaning as you rode Ruby’s face to oblivion, and you didn’t care how loud you were. Ruby could easily have ripped herself out of your grip, but something in her wanted to submit to you, so she did, letting you use her however you pleased. 

Ruby had moved her talented tongue from your cunt and drew your clit into her mouth, and sucked hard on it. It threw you off the edge and into your orgasm. You came hard on her face, your pussy clenching around nothing as pleasure racked your body. She kept sucking on your clit as you came all over her face, wetting her chin and mouth with your slick until you shakily removed yourself from her face and collapsed next to her. Your grip on her wrists fell as you tried to calm yourself from the intensity of your orgasm. 

You could hear the rustling of the sheets right next to you but kept your eyes closed as you caught your breath. 

Before you could peel your eyes open, you felt cold hands grip your wrists and pin them to the bed. You opened your eyes to find a now naked Ruby hovering over you with a devilish smile on her face, but she didn’t bother cleaning your arousal from her face as she leaned down so her face was close to yours. 

“My turn.” Ruby’s lips brushed against yours as she spoke. 

From there you knew you were in for a long night.   

[join my taglist !; read rules before sending in an ask]

[venomousray]

I would buy every single godamn match she had.

[hellas-himself]

Just in case you haven’t finished Veilguard (like me) and haven’t made it to all the big lore stuff (like my brother) I’m putting my morning thoughts nonsense under the cut. It’s kinda spoilery.

I wonder what it would be like for a Lavellan who joined Solas in vg to be so happy at first. They’re with the man they love the most, they’ve forgiven him and for the first few days, months, years? together in the Fade, they’re happy.

But what happens when they start to miss their friends? Their family? When they remember who and what they left behind. When everything starts coming back to them, the memories of all they went through since he left after the end of DAI, after the events of Trespasser and the years between the dlc and Veilguard. Yeah, Lavellan loves Solas, but is love ever really enough? And then the discussions of magic and the Fade and history Lavellan loved so much turns into arguments and blame, realizing that their forgiveness isn’t enough or even the forgiveness that matters after all he’s done. Lavellan isn’t the one who gets to absolve him.

And because they have started to regret it, they’re fucking stuck there :)

I’ve also seen takes where Lavellan is like we’re still tearing it down when everyone we know dies right lol and that’s beautiful too. Everyone’s different takes about how this ends for their Inquisitor is great and I love y’all.

[anpiels]

I saw someone give Haori/Rei glasses and banged this out in like 2 hours i think she should have them like. fr. thank you

[anastasia-selwyn]

Don't worry, love. Anastasia chuckled, tucking her hair behind her ear which revealed another mark on the side of her neck. I'll still be here to support you, especially in your new relationship. She then turned her gaze towards Kingsley. Don't hurt him, yeah? As I've said before, Jamie is my best friend, and I still love this idiot, don't worry, not in the way you think. He's all yours, babe. Make sure he eats on time, since this big dummy usually forgets because of practice. Just love him the way he deserves, the way I couldn't, and I'll be your number one supporter, promise.

Phoenix? He's not going to hurt me. That boy has been in love with me for like forever. Anastasia smiled like a love sick girl, which she actually was. He just loves me, more than I could ever know, I suppose. He looks at me like I'm the only girl in the world, hell, I think he sees me as a goddess. And I love him, more than words could ever describe. Jamie, you have nothing to worry about Phoenix. Even if, you know I can pretty much castrate him with a flick of my wand. If he ever becomes an ass, yeah I guess you could beat him up? Anastasia answered with a laugh, before giving the two a stern look. If you two ever hurt each other, we're gonna have problems. I don't need my friends hurting each other now, do I?

When Kingsley gave her a surprised look, she gave him an assuring nod. Yes, babe, we're friends now. If Jamie loves you, then I love you now as well. I don't know if he told you, but my new year's resolution was to be a better person, so please don't look at me as if I'm going to attack or anything. Consider me as a friend, I suppose.

So, Anastasia said, changing the topic. How'd you two start? I wanna know everything! She stood up, making her way to sit next to Kingsley with a bright smile that held no malice for the two. Leave no detail out. Give me everything, even the spicy stuff! It's the weekend, so we have all the time in the world.

(next is her request about the break up plot-)

@thathojamie @king-ofthe-crop

Anastasia walked into the common room with a big smile on her face, humming like a mad woman, still reeling from her time with the love of her life, Phoenix. Her lips were still swollen from making out with him, her cheeks still flushed, and just above her chest was a hickey she proudly wore.

@thathojamie

[clarablightt]

my girlfriend just called called me “found family” and that caused me to once again burst into tears